Failure to Launch
by HazardTape
Summary: Spock can't quite get into Nyota. NOW COMPLETE. And thank you for joining us.
1. Dishonorable Discharge

We own nothing Star Trek.

HazardTape specializes in smut crack, so expect hilarity, explicit sex and rough language.

If you would kindly leave a review or comment, we'd love that!

*

**Chapter 1. Dishonorable Discharge**

***  
**

A shuttle diagnostic is always a good place to start.

So Spock Prime had told him. The old man was an unrepentant pest when it came to sex with Nyota. Since he hadn't ever gotten any from his own Uhura, he was determined that he, Spock, would get some from his.

He would have to get a new name for his counterpart or his mind would split in two every time he thought about his own penis.

To make the longest seduction in history short, Spock and Nyota had wanted each other for a long, long time and only when they believed he was leaving the Enterprise to die did they kiss. He supposed it was logical, since he had been her instructor and it really was not appropriate. But then propriety did not seem to matter much, did it, when it came down to publicly displaying their affection, on duty, on the transporter pad, in front of the acting Captain and everyone?

Spock Prime made him so agitated he could not control such bitter thoughts.

The startling, mind-blowing truth was that he loved Nyota, and that her logical and controlled behavior for three years--during which, had she been any other girl, he could have been receiving blow jobs under his desk--was a big part of what he admired about her.

He planted his face in both hands. He had to get her in his arms for more than the chaste kisses and loving declarations they'd made during the attack of Vulcan and in these few weeks following. The burning was turning him into a jerk.

She was being too gentle with him, waiting for him to comprehend his grief, let alone begin the lifelong process of living with it. He realized it stemmed from her deep love for him. But he wanted to fucking fuck her already. In desperation and total aggravation, and against all better judgment, he took Prime's advice and asked Nyota to join him in completing a shuttle diagnostic.

"It is a fully seal-able, sound proof environment, which affords various horizontal and vertical surfaces," his older self had told him.

He found the concept itself--and the reality that Spock Prime had first-hand experience in testing it --fascinating. In point of fact, the idea of Nyota up against a shuttle wall, pinned in a shuttle chair, splayed over a console, was so fascinating, it had gnawed at Spock ever since.

He now found himself in his shower, thinking about it some more. They were scheduled for the diagnostic too much later in the day, and he could not wait.

As hot water coursed over his down-turned head and broad shoulders, he watched his erection grow with a familiar exasperation. He closed his eyes, and Nyota was ducking under the shuttle hatch, coming to find him. He imagined her eyes, her lashes sweeping delicately, just touching her skin, he imagined her mouth. She was licking her bottom lip with her tiny, pink tongue.

He felt his hard cock in his hand and began to stroke it, at a pace so slow he could conceivably die of starvation before finishing. But he knew how these things tended to go. It would be a brief incident once he got going. He squeezed himself, with an amount of pressure he had learned--over the preceding weeks--was most effective, then while holding himself firmly he moved just his thumb in long obtuse-angled arcs. That always felt good.

As he thought about her sparkling lips opening just for him, he suddenly had an abrupt and horrifying vision of Spock Prime's face as he told him about shuttles, a wicked gleam in the old man's eyes. Fuck! He forced him out of his mind, recalling Nyota's scent, so maddening and delicious. His hand moved faster now, stroking the length of his penis as it became harder and the sensations throughout his body became more insistent. He heard Prime's voice say "You really should try it," and he cursed in anger at the man's intrusion during this critical time. He began to pump his fist, the head of his wet cock protruding each time his hand reached his pubic bone.

His mind's eye returned to Nyota, and he pictured her lifting her skirt to show him her thigh, thought of how his view of her thighs would no longer be limited to the too-narrow band between her skirt hem and the tops of her boots. He pictured her hands spreading her own bare thighs for him, bringing him to the very peak of ecstasy and moment of release, and as he came he pictured her sliding her tongue into Spock Prime's mouth. He roared with rage as he sprayed hot semen all over the shower wall. He was so angry at his mind's treachery, he hauled off and slammed his fist into the wall. The tiles cracked, and a trickle of green blood was washed down with his semen.

The sight of it made him crazy. He punched the shower wall again, and then, as if the shower were Jim Kirk himself, he hit and attacked it with every martial art technique known to him and accessible by his brain at the moment. He shattered every tile, then moved on to ripping out the showerhead, mangling it in one fluid motion, and tossing it on the bathroom floor. He also ripped out the hot and cold faucets simultaneously and dashed them onto the floor, where they cracked the very surface. He kicked them savagely and managed to make a large, ugly dent in the toilet.

Finally, he began to calm down. But he was still panting and somewhat crazed as he surveyed his surroundings. He had dispatched with the shower efficiently, and with the full strength of a young, strapping Vulcan.

Damn right.

He would have to call maintenance.

*


	2. Improper Use of Starfleet Property

_Disclaimers in chapter 1._

*  
**Chapter 2. Improper Use of Starfleet Property**

*

"Delayed gratification can be quite titillating."

Those words were becoming a mantra of sorts to Spock. He'd rehearsed the combination of consonants and vowels in an effort to perfect tone, pitch, and delivery. In former days the Commander had been a bit of a sadist. Camouflaging nascent desires with Vulcan control as he played on the curiosity of ensigns during countless training assignments and unexpected missions. Many were captivated by his attractive alien features while others were riveted by his uncharacteristic strength. More than once he'd taken their stares as solicitations. Accepted their whispers as acknowledgement that they wanted to feel their bodies bend and snap under his hands as he twisted limbs and manipulated orifices to optimize his pleasure. The experiences were satisfying to say the least. While the indulgence provided a wealth of information in reference to his capabilities and those of the humanoid female, now there was only one woman that held his interest.

The thought of her caused his body to burn and before he knew it the blood rushed to his organ. The throbbing commenced and his discomfort increased. What was once desire rapidly morphed into need.

Just as Spock Prime--the bane of his existence--had known the words he'd used to spread the legs of a myriad of unnamed women, he'd recognized the look of infatuation that rested on his younger self's face in the presence of one Nyota Uhura. The elder had often compared the younger woman to the vivacious one he knew in his time. His tales of her defiance in the face of opposition mirrored that of the woman he…Spock tucked away the remaining words for another time.

"We became close companions." The older man whispered as they calibrated and configured the proper settings for the artificial gravity generator. "It appears that Nyota Uhura is a most fascinating individual regardless of space or time. She is a rare composite of emotional, intellectual, and physical beauty."

There was something in his counterpart's voice. His mouth stretched and lingered on the word _physical. _An allusion to a deeper meaning and at that moment Spock knew he couldn't trust that pointy eared bastard any farther than he could see him. A friendly suggestion here and there under the guise of shared wisdom. As Doctor McCoy would say, hogwash. Why should _that_ Spock be concerned if _this_ Spock achieved his goal to mate--possess--dominate the Nyota Uhura of this universe?

Possession. The concept appealed to him, Nyota bound, and ready to please him. His dexterous fingers stroked the component in his hand in the same manner he planned to touch her thighs. Spock traced light lines over the curves of the metal. He recalled the image of her from memory; the same thighs that resided in his mind's eye as he stroked his shaft earlier in the shower. Those legs would soon tighten around his head as he tongued her sweet spot repeatedly before he slid his cock into her wet heat. He would taste her _there _again while he manipulated her smaller opening until his fingers stretched it to accommodate his length and width. He would tease her hole with the tip as he brushed it over her cheeks, spanking her with the cock she begged to fill her, and pausing only to allow his mouth a moment to lubricate the space. Delicious moans from her lips followed by his name would incite him to near insanity. And with his desire building as her nimble fingers spread her buttocks he'd push further until her ass swallowed him whole.

Spock purged the thought--for now.

He could not taint her with the deviant cravings housed in his mind. Yes he wanted to bury every inch of his engorged penis deep within her walls. He visualized her cheeks hollowed as her mouth sucked him to completion. The puckered skin of her back wall as he pounded and she tightened around him.

Spock closed his eyes and snarled. She would be his. In every way he desired. Her body would bear his mark. When his eyes opened, the elder Spock had him under quiet observation. The hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips over his younger self's internal show of ownership.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Prime's use of the idiom pissed the Commander off. In fact the elder's presence as of late did little to improve the young officer's mood.

Spock's pants were stretched across a bulge between his legs. He had absently begun to stroke the component he was working on, as he thought of the many ways to have Nyota, and the tool's low vibrations relieved the incessant burning.

The older man actually laughed in his face.

Spock Prime would never touch her, not if he had anything to do with it. The elder stood and excused himself to retrieve another component from the Engineering department.

In his solitude the sound of the equipment in his hand provoked further illicit thoughts from Spock. He rubbed the object across his thigh and purred when the waves created a delicious sensation. His organ jumped and twitched when he allowed the tool to skim across the surface of the material protecting that delicate area.

Spock felt his brow lift with the next consideration. He freed himself from his pants and the underlying restrictive briefs. The gush of warm air from the room caused him to go from semi to fully erect in mere seconds. He positioned the component on the underside of his shaft. It tickled his balls as it sent vibrating waves throughout his pelvic area. His left hand closed around his length and he shuddered. He would imagine that his hand was her hand. He stroked and pulled. His grip tightened and he moved the vibrating object up and down the base of his swelling member. He whispered her name in between stifled moans. The pressure mounted and he knew that this wasn't Nyota but if just the thought of her and his hand could bring him to this then once he actually felt Nyota's sweetness the beast locked behind the visage he'd created would explode.

His movements quickened and became uncontrolled. He panted as he tried to catch his breath. He alternated between curses and her name. With one last stroke he released his hot seed and watched as it covered the tools they'd borrowed from Commander Scott.

Spock fell back, totally sated. Once he regained composure he covered his body. His eyes fell to the pile of junk Spock Prime had amassed during their repairs. He stood and circled the items. He imagined the older man's face. He brought his boot down and smiled as he listened to the melody of destruction. Joy surged through his veins. His body bounced up and down like a kid jumping on his parents' bed. His actions resulted in a mangled heap of garbage that once belonged to the elder.

Disgruntled but encouraged that he would see his longings fulfilled, the younger Spock smoothed his uniform as he took long strides to the door. He contemplated his next move as his hand hesitated on the panel. He allowed it to fall back to his side before he rushed to the scene of his most recent crime and retrieved the 'toy' that had brought him uncensored pleasure moments before. It could prove to be quite useful in future endeavors.

The mess--that was Prime's concern. Maybe it would keep him out of his face and away from Nyota long enough to bring a few repressed ideas to life.

*


	3. Minor Mishap with a Tool

_Disclaimers and warnings in chapter 1. Cheers!  
_

*  
**Chapter 3. Minor Mishap with a Tool  
**

*

Spock had no idea why he kept getting assigned to these menial, degrading chores. He deduced that that old ass Spock Prime had something to do with it, using his influence with various department heads to keep him busy while his elder importuned Nyota with his advances. Today, Spock was enclosed in a Jeffries tube on C deck, repairing a conduit that provided lighting to the bridge. The backup conduit was working well, and Spock knew his work here was not of immediate importance. He would get it done in no time and go to check on Nyota's situation.

Spock was not a small man, and the tube was not large. He had heard that the name of the access tube had come from a 20th-century designer named Jeffries; he cursed said designer for not allowing for superior Vulcan physiology. Then he dropped a spanner on his kneecap and, since no one could see or hear him, told it exactly what a dickhead Old Man Spock was for getting him into this. He would have to retrieve the spanner, as he needed it to get into the next panel.

There was no way he could bend over in this space; it was angled at 45 degrees, so the spanner hadn't fallen entirely out of the tube, but it was lying 0.3 meters below his feet as he stood on a rung halfway up. Carefully, he backed down a couple of rungs and tried to trap the tool between his heels. No good; he couldn't lift it higher than his knees, even when he lay on his back on the rungs and bent his legs. Now the spanner was on the angled surface, between his calves, and Spock had an idea.

Squeezing his calves together, he managed to get hold of the spanner between them and lift it a few centimeters so he could drop it between his thighs. The tube was too narrow even for him to reach below his crotch. He'd have to scoot down and reach behind him...or turn around so he could reach in front of him...

Spock turned face down again and stepped down a rung. Now it was just at the level of his fly; he held on to a rung with one hand and carefully reached down, got a grip on the tool...

And straightened up too quickly, bumping the heavy spanner against his genital region as he did so.

"Ponfo mirann! K'la'sa mish-vel-raul! Sonofabitch piece of shit!!"

The access tube rang with profanity, both Standard and Vulcan, and inarticulate whimpering. After a minute or two, a voice came over the comm saying, "Engineering to Mr. Spock. Is that you, sir? Are you all right? We had a report from deck five of someone screaming in an access tube..."

Spock pulled himself together. At least he still had a grip on the spanner.

"I am well, Lieutenant. There was a minor mishap with a tool. Spock out."

Just for good measure, he disabled the comm panel; he had to get this _pekhik_ task done and get out of this confined space. He stowed the spanner in the tool bag and lay a hand tenderly on his fly, soothing his manhood. How could he have been so careless? If he were to catch up with Nyota - which he damn well would, Ambassador or no Ambassador - his own "equipment" would have to be in peak condition. Experimentally he pressed his hand gently against his pants and was reassured by the stirring he felt beneath the fabric.

It wouldn't do to leave anything to chance, however. He unzipped his trousers and pushed his pants and briefs down so he could give his cock room to relax. It looked fairly content, lying at half-mast, green, pulsing slightly. Ready for action. Spock gave it a few tugs and it perked up even more.

It suddenly occurred to him that Nyota had probably never seen a green penis before. It would be too much to hope for her to be a virgin - but surely she had not gone so far as to dally with a species other than human? Perhaps he should arrange for dim lighting on their first coupling; the color of his erection wouldn't be as obvious and he could introduce her to it gradually. How low would the lights have to be?

"Lights, fifty per cent," he said and the lighting dimmed accordingly. He looked down at his handful of flesh and considered, squeezing as he did so in order to increase the blood flow. This produced a more distinctly green color and he said, "Lights, thirty per cent."

Now his shaft was stiffening further and flushing a darker color. Spock knew from experience that his arousal was not yet nearing its peak, and he could still distinguish colors at this level of lighting. He groaned and almost absently gripped and pulled at his organ.

"Lights, twenty per cent," he ordered and it became quite dark. Too dark, he surmised, for him to discern the shape of a dark-skinned beauty such as Nyota, when the time came. That wouldn't do. He closed his eyes now and allowed himself to picture her, sultry eyes, black hair, curves like satiny polished wood, warm under his hands...

That old asshole had better be keeping his hands off my Nyota, thought Spock. The only green schlong she's going to get is mine...any way I want...

He stroked harder and forgot to check the color of his penis...although he could definitely imagine it sliding into her mouth...between those red lips... She would look up at him submissively as he twined his hands in her hair and held her head still, while he fucked her mouth slowly, her wide eyes communicating her wonder at his size and hardness. Surely his Nyota would be able to take his entire length; he anticipated feeling the head of his cock nudging the back of her throat as it stretched and expanded to let him in deeper, her tongue thrusting along the shaft as the tension gathered in his balls -

His eyes snapped open as he reached the point of no return. He was about to ejaculate in the confines of an access tube and he did not give a rat's ass. In fact - He had an evil thought. As his hand flashed up and down on his cock, he pointed it toward the open panel where he had been doing his repairs, roaring and spurting a stream of white into and over the wiring inside the rectangular opening. The wiring shorted out in a spectacular display of sparks and flame and smoke.

Spock tucked himself away smugly, replaced the panel over the now irreparable and dripping wiring, and hoisted the tool bag over his shoulder, preparing to climb down to deck five. Reactivating the comm, he was treated to the sound of shouting and cursing. Apparently the short had cut out lighting to the bridge completely and he was hearing the sound of people barking their shins and tripping over chairs. He thanked the stars that Nyota was not currently on duty, descended sedately into the corridor, and contacted Engineering to send a smaller man to repair the panel he had just decorated.

*

_pehkik_ = shitty


	4. Lift, Interrupted

_Disclaimers and warnings in chapter 1._

*

**Chapter 4. Lift, Interrupted.**

*

Spock stomped into the turbolift and snarled at the computer. "Shuttle bay." He was so aroused he could hardly think. The satisfaction of destroying the wiring and shorting out lighting to the bridge had worn off much too quickly. The turbolift doors slid shut and it started its descent. And then the lights went out and the movement ceased. What the fuck!

"Computer! Restart turbolift 17. Right this minute!"

"Unable to comply. Turbolift has been halted for routine maintenance."

Spock could not believe what he had just heard. The main turbolifts were never halted for routine maintenance. They were repaired on the fly when necessary. And now here he stood, enormously aroused, ready for Nyota and the shuttle diagnostic he'd finally scheduled with her--and stuck for who knew how long in the damned turbolift. He paced from one side of the turbolift to the other, irate beyond belief. He didn't know where his Vulcan control was, but it surely wasn't here.

He glared at the sealed doors. Then he lunged at them, trying to pry them apart with his fingers. He only succeeded in breaking a fingernail, causing a sharp pain. He screamed and pounded his fist at the unyielding doors. They dented, but did not give. Whirling about he attacked the walls in a flurry of suus mahna strikes and kicks. When he again stood still, panting, he was no less aroused but the turbolift car was in sorry shape, the walls buckled and crazed.

And some alarm was sounding somewhere, a shrill tone that was immensely irritating to his ears. If he could only find the speaker that was producing it, he would tear it from the wall.

It was while he was looking for the speaker, to no avail, that he remembered the hatch in the ceiling. Raising his eyes, he found the small panel and reached for it. It was only centimeters beyond his reach. She would be there, now, the shuttle bay, wondering where he was. He could not fuck her in the shuttle if he was trapped in the damn turbolift. His blood began to boil. His lok throbbed between his legs. His brain was on overload.

He bent his knees and jumped, his arms outstretched, and blasted through the latched hatch, splintering it into a million pieces, which all fell down in the car with him, some of them narrowly missing his eyes. He gave an ear-piercing scream and shook to shed the splinters. He jumped once more, grasping the edge of the hatch with both hands, cutting them on the remaining jagged edges in the process. He pulled himself up, only to find, with his head through the hatch, that his shoulders would not fit.

He dropped back into the car, totally berserk. This time he smashed all the light fixtures, the entire control panel and every other visible thing in the car. He stood in the wreckage, chest heaving, sweat dripping down from the end of his nose, heart pounding, lok throbbing. He had to get out of here! If he didn't get to the shuttle bay she might leave!

He looked at the ceiling again, speculating. There was a seam there, running across the center. He positioned himself just so, bent his knees, concentrated, and leapt high and hard, hitting both fists right on the seam line and buckling the entire roof of the car upwards. Several more leaps resulted in a gap wide enough that he managed to pull his body through.

He stood on the hopelessly mangled roof of the car and grasped the ladder bolted to the side of the shaft. With Vulcan speed and strength he began to climb to the next level. He was going to get to the shuttle bay and fuck her senseless. Or else he might explode.

*

When the crew of technicians arrived to see why the alarm was going off for turbolift 17, they stood there, awestruck. Nothing they were aware of could explain the condition of that car.

*


	5. On the Inside Looking Out

_Disclaimers in chapter 1. _

_**Warnings **probably bear repeating: explicit sex, rough language, violence, and very much OOC crack._

*

** Chapter 5. On the Inside Looking Out**

*

Spock continued climbing up the inside of the turbolift shaft, cursing that cock-sucking bastard that continued to block him at every twist and turn. Somehow all of this had to be Prime's fault! His mind ranged back and forth between that and the overpowering lust he felt toward Nyota. He had suppressed it for far too long and something had to give--and soon! Once again he was enflamed almost past endurance, his cock large and bothersome between his legs as he climbed. He cursed the old man again, not realizing that he was climbing right past the entrance to the shuttle bay. It was only when he came to the upper level entrance that he realized his mistake. He hung from the ladder, incensed. He could not go back down--the organ between his legs was so enflamed that he could not move in that direction without severe pain. So he must enter at this upper level and take the internal stairs down.

That decision made, he smacked the emergency open button set into the wall beside the doors, hitting it so hard that it shattered into many pieces and went raining down the shaft. He gripped the ladder rails so hard that they twisted in his hands as he flung himself through the partly-open doors. He was moving so fast that he had to grab the safety railing with both hands to prevent himself from flying over it into the open air. He stood there panting and saw, there in the middle of the shuttle bay floor, the shuttle that he had requested, door open, stairs down. And there she was, on the stairs, just about to enter the shuttle. He was not too late!

His objective now in sight, he turned and hurried toward the stairs at the corner of the bay, but as he turned to start down them, he saw something that made his blood run cold. There, on the far side of the shuttle bay, just coming out of the turbolift on that side, was the bastard himself, Spock Prime. What the fuck was that old man doing here? Was he after Nyota himself? Spock flung himself down the stairs, leaping three or four at a time in his urgency to reach the floor below. Once there he pounded across the floor, avoiding everything in his path, and lunged into the shuttle, pulling the stairs up after him, very hard. Unfortunately, as he was at an angle to the doorway when he did this, the stairs jammed instead of sliding perfectly into place. The servo-motors ground away, trying to get the door to seal, with no luck.

Spock stood, panting, and swiveled his head about, looking for Nyota. He did not see her. In desperation, he looked under all the chairs and the front console. She was not inside the shuttle. But he had seen her climbing in! What had that old man done with her? And how? He looked through the front window and there they stood, talking, not twenty meters away. He had been so intent on entering the shuttle that he had missed the fact that she was outside. He cocked his head. No, he would not have been able to see them from his vantage point. That cock-blocking bastard had deliberately maneuvered her into a position where she would not be visible to him. His blood boiled. He beat his fists on the transparent window, but no noise carried outside. And the grinding of the servo-motors would have drowned out the paltry sound of his fists, anyway.

Spock turned toward the door again, trying to force it to open, but the motors were stronger than he was. After all, they had to withstand the pull of vacuum. Once again he found himself at the front console, staring out the window. She was so beautiful, her hair swinging behind her as she talked. But wait, what was that old man doing? He draped one arm over her shoulders, casually. And turned his head just enough that his twinkling eyes caught Spock's. He smirked. Spock lost it. He grabbed the back of the pilot's chair and yanked hard, pulling it up out of the floor mounts, bolts screaming all the way. He swung the chair into the window and it rebounded as it disintegrated, pieces flying all about the shuttle cabin. The window, however, was unmarked. Spock roared in fury. Spock Prime cocked one eyebrow at him as if to say "how gauche".

Spock watched helplessly as Spock Prime bent and whispered something in Nyota's ear, making her blush and giggle. Her blushes and giggles were meant only for him! He saw the old man's hand, creeping stealthily down from her shoulder, fingers only a slight distance from her perfect breast. Spock raged about the inside of the shuttle, futilely pounding on the door where the servo-motors still ground, banging into seats, throwing the remains of the pilot's chair about the cabin, shattering light fixtures and instrument panels.

When he once again stood in front of the window, he found that Spock Prime had subtly turned Nyota about and she was now facing him. Her face lit up when she saw him and she waved her arm at him. Hesitantly, he raised his arm in return. Waving at her? He was reduced to waving at her? He wanted to feel her lovely body up close against his. He wanted to peel that uniform off of her and taste all her lovely brown skin. He wanted to plunge his tongue into her mouth and then other places as well. The thought of his head between her thighs was almost too much. He throbbed, now, almost completely out of control.

Spock Prime said something else to Nyota and she nodded. Giving Spock one more wave, she turned toward the far turbolift and began to walk, Spock Prime right beside her. NO! No, no, no! Spock went crazy, battering everything in sight. As the turbolift doors closed behind them, he ripped open his trousers and pulled his twitching, throbbing member out, jerking hard once, and sprayed the entire surface of the window, as well as the console, with his hot semen.

He stood there, head hanging, heart pounding, until he could breathe again. Then he realized that it was entirely silent. From the smell in the air, the servo-motors had finally burnt out. Perhaps he could get out. He stuffed himself back in his trousers and approached the door. He began to push, harder and harder. At the very end of his strength, the door collapsed, the stairs falling back to the ground. He was out of the shuttle, across the bay, and pounding on the turbolift button in less than ten seconds. He would find that old bastard and pound him to pulp. And then he would find Nyota and fuck her. Or maybe he would do those things in reverse order.

*


	6. First Contact

_Disclaimers and warnings in Chapter 1._

_Warnings repeat: **violence, explicit sex, language, hilarity**._

_ This is a work of** satire**. Spock is way OOC. Or is he? ;-)  
_

*

**Chapter 6. First Contact**

***  
**

If his hard-ons didn't hurt so much it would be comical--this constantly being thwarted in his pursuit of what was under Nyota's skirt. But they did, and he was bitter. And he had too long to think about it, as he was currently secured firmly to a tree on an unpleasant planet, in the clutches of several strong, sentient vines.

At the moment, he was supposed to be meeting Nyota in her quarters for a date, and he had planned to suggest staying in her quarters to relax. So much--one again--for the best-laid plans. And the un-laid Vulcan, if his understanding of the Human use of the word was correct.

The plant life on the planet was exceptionally intelligent. He'd discovered this while attempting to take a sample of what appeared to be an ovate leaf-like protusion, which turned out to be, well, completely not a leaf.

And so he was pinned to the tree. Both his hands were bound above his head, and both his feet secured where the trunk met the ground.

He had discovered upon first getting caught up in the vines that he and the tree were able to communicate on a rudimentary level. Without placing his hands directly on the creature, it was difficult, but he could touch it with several parts of his body and faintly feel its presence. In fact, the tree seemed to understand his desire to be let free, though it didn't agree on the matter and kept him held tight. Dammit.

What was he doing here when Nyota's legs were somewhere overhead?

Spock Prime had urged him to go on this away mission, the bastard. What was the old man even doing on the Enterprise? He put Spock in a crappy mood, and so the younger man had stupidly separated himself from the away team, gone deep into the obscure center of a small wooded area where he could mope. Now he was restricted while Prime was probably on the ship flirting remorselessly with Nyota and a host of other young, and, let's face it, delicious women.

The vine had dispatched with his communicator within seconds, and no one ever heard what happened to him. He was sure they were searching for him at this very moment.

In the meantime, he had an erection that threatened to explode his genitals and no way to get rid of it.

Suddenly he heard words in his mind._ I have accessed your thoughts sufficiently and can now communicate directly._

Thank the fucking black holes everywhere, Spock thought.

"Then you are able to respond to my desire for release," the first officer countered.

_Yes, I believe I am._ The tree's voice spoke in his head.

"Then would you please proceed." Spock countered, getting rather un-Vulcanly agitated.

_I am always pleased to take the opportunity to commune with visitors to our planet_, continued the tree. _As you wish._

And then Spock felt his pants open, and a previously unseen vine yanked them down to his knees. He barely had a second to register shock before another vine snaked out from the bushes and encircled him…intimately. And started to move.

He couldn't break away, though he tried mightily. The vines were even stronger than a young, virile Vulcan. Unfortunately, or fortunately as the case may be, his motions only made his cock sway, reaching blindly for nothing, whipping the vine into more fervid action. It caressed and moved with him, responding to his desperation with greater pressure and speed.

He did the only logical thing. He gave in. After all, it really felt good.

The vine caressed him, leaves enclosing the tip of his penis as even more ovate structures encircled his testicles and gently pulled on them, teasing him. It felt so fucking good, is all he could think. He gave his thoughts and feelings freely, and the tree began to pump him, faster and harder. The vine essentially, though it had no mouth, sucked the life out of him, and soon he felt a rising desperation in his stomach, in his pelvis, and he roared and shot his semen in great arcs over the ground.

When he came back to his senses, he surveyed his situation. There he stood, attached to a tree, arms overhead, his pants down and half-limp penis hanging, and a pool of cooling semen on the ground.

His mortification was complete.

Fuck Spock Prime. Thanks to him, instead of making love to his Nyota for the first luscious time, he got jacked off by a tree.

It made him…angry.

"Let me go!" he raged, and he pulled with his full Vulcan strength, not intending to hurt the alien lifeform, but intent on proving how serious he was about getting free. The vines immediately responded, likely out of self-preservation, or perhaps in the name of intergalactic "relations." They retracted into the brush faster than he could see. Freed, he roared to life and, committed to doing no harm to the alien, kicked angrily at the ground, knocking rocks and dirt for meters in all directions. It was not satisfying. He turned to a small bush and roared "Are you alive?!" and when he received no response he ripped it from the ground, roots and all, and threw it several meters. He ripped out another, and another, and another, until he had nearly cleared the ground around him. He got down to the last bush in evidence and stopped to pull up his pants. Then he threw the last bush as far and high as he could, drew his phaser, and shot the shit out of it.

He eyed some unassuming small flowers, but they shook with fear and let out tiny peeps.

Anyhow, at that moment his communicator chirped. "Mr. Spock, please respond."

He panted and took less than three seconds to calm and center himself.

"Spock here."

The landing party was near and would find him, return him to the ship.

He did not look forward to making a full report.

*

_These trees may seem familiar. HazardTape owes a debt of gratitude to **hopefuladdict **to inventing them and letting us borrow._

_More to come._


	7. Sucking Wind

_Disclaimers and warnings in Chapter 1._

_Warnings repeat: **violence, explicit sex, language, hilarity**._

_ This is a work of** satire**. Spock is way OOC. Or is he? ;-)  
_

*

**Chapter 7. Sucking Wind  
**

*

_Fuck this ship and every sexually active individual whose name is not Nyota Uhura or S'chn T'gai Spock. Bitch assed motherfuckers. _

Spock Prime was but a _kre'nath_ to him. It appeared since the elder failed to procure any form of sexual gratification he was resigned to ad infinitum serve in his role as Enterprise cock blocker. 

_Ponfo mirann…_

The elder surely hadn't brought his nose, lips, or any remaining appendage near the delight of a woman who was warm, wet, and ready in over a century. Spock paused and allowed the urge to punch something or someone to subside. The thought of Nyota's sweetness near his lips made him salivate.

_Hayal. Tash-tor. _He recited the words--calm--control--in an attempt to cease the storm of desires that compromised the years of tutelage under the ways of Surak.

Spock had disturbed Jim's enjoyment of a round of no-strings-attached fellatio in his ready room from his Yeoman of the week. Then there was Scotty spread-eagled in the bowels of Engineering writhing and grinding on Ensign Winston's fingers. Hell, he thought she was a lesbian. Obviously she just liked to be the one in control.

What next?

Chapel and McCoy on one of the biobeds in sickbay?

Sulu and Chekov in the former's prized arboretum?

He imagined flipping off the bridge crew --grabbing the growing bulge between his legs before throwing Nyota over his shoulder and giving in to his salacious need to take her repeatedly in the ship's corridors for everyone to see. Then he would mark her. All before they reached the First Officer's quarters. His hands balled into fists; the tide would have to turn soon or he was going to be one pissed off and violently inclined Vulcan.

Spock's eyes traveled around the bridge for signs that his internal monologue had been intercepted by the ears of his comrades. To his right, Nyota sat, moving from screen to screen as she arranged frequencies and searched for subspace communications. The skirt of her uniform was trapped between her chair and the curve of her thigh. An excessive amount of skin was in his sight. Surely she could feel the air. Her nipples were erect and straining the material of the uniform. He wanted to bite, suck, and lick them until they were raw. Jezebel--she was trying to seduce him on the bridge. As if on cue Nyota turned to face him, angelic smile on her face. How in the hell could she be so calm? They had skirted the attraction issue at the Academy, and instead opted for an intimate friendship with boundaries that stretched longer than the Great Wall of China. Rules and regulations could go straight to hell.

Nyota's head fell to one side, her eyes full of comfort, and curiosity. Why did she not burn for him in the same manner? This thought process--the anger--the bitterness--was a pristine example of an illogical response to unavoidable circumstances. Even his extreme displeasure for Spock Prime and his shriveled, dust filled balls was irrational.

Unbeknownst to Spock, the ship's doctor stood behind the science station. The first officer was so engaged in his private inner discussion that he was unaware of the man. Spock stood, his lack of balance tied not only to his emotions but to his physical presence. McCoy fell to the ground and lost the vial of his treasured hyacinth elixir.

"Pointy-eared bastard. I hope you're prepared to march down to Sulu's botanical garden for more." McCoy's eyes burned with irritation. "Green-blooded hobgoblin, do you hear me talking to you?" The doctor raised a small insignificant fist to the first officer's eyes.

Spock opened his mouth to speak and decided against it. He had heard the doctor loud and clear. He trudged towards the turbolift instead of delivering a death grip to McCoy and finally ridding the Enterprise of his sarcasm and poor disposition. Once in the lift, Spock noted that his previous damages were virtually undetectable. _Fascinating_. His frustration with his day and current state grew. He imagined how stimulating it would be to take her in this confined space. That's how this thing had started. He closed his eyes and attempted to center his thoughts. He was on the verge of allowing his hand to slip down his pants when the doors parted to reveal the helmsman's sanctuary.

"Lieutenant Sulu," Spock called out.

The scent of jasmine and lavender surrounded him, encircling his nose and evoking thoughts and images of the one woman who could cure what ailed him. Purely out of reflex, his foot extended, and he kicked a tall pot that tumbled to the floor. He watched as the container shattered. Rich soil spilled to the floor decorated by the roots of the lieutenant's most recent acquisition, a Folnar jewel plant. As his aggression multiplied, so did the sensation between his legs. The pain had become intolerable in recent days. His clothes caused an unpleasant amount friction. He'd found himself in quiet retrospection as his crew mate spoke. His mind wandered back to the softness of her lips and the strength of her tongue. The stamina of the jaws that worked diligently to form words in a sundry of languages and how all three things combined would provide pleasure unparalleled to his sensitive organ that continued to beg for her attention.

Commander Spock flattened a series of freshly potted specimens. He smashed the night blooming _throgni_ because it smelt nothing like jasmine it was absurd that it should share the words night and blooming when it secreted a most unpleasant odor. The Vulcan's next unfortunate victim was a breathtaking midnight orchid that met its untimely end against the door. The sound of destruction brought Sulu from his hiding place. The man's face was flushed and his eyes wide in stunned horror.

"What is going on out here?!?" the helmsman bellowed before catching sight of the first officer.

Spock labored to inhale and exhale. He was still semi–erect from his daydream of Nyota in the lift and additional thoughts and cravings that rose to the surface of his mind. The standard uniform pants left little to the imagination. His crewmate's eyes lingered on the prominent swell and Spock's discomfort rose. There was no exchange, only a wicked leer planted on Sulu's lips as his tongue wet his thin and inviting mouth. Semi could no longer describe Spock's erection. Nyota often licked her lips in a similar manner.

Sulu held the bundle of hyacinth from the Commander's reach. Teasing Spock, he snatched it from his grasp each time his hand extended. Realization filled the man's eyes. Sulu knew Spock's secret and despite advanced intelligence he chose to tease the first officer mercilessly. "Commander ... still playing the ever chivalrous gentleman with our beautiful linguist."

Spock's brow raised in response to the man's words. He shifted, trying to relieve the mounting pressure. His temperature rose under Sulu's scrutiny. The man moved closer, invading Spock's personal space and piercing his senses. Oddly, he smelled like _his_ Nyota. There were traces of honeysuckle on his skin and jasmine in his hair.

_Blue balls._ Spock had heard the term used by the Captain once. His _lok_ was throbbing, sending another earnest plea for relief. His hips lunged towards the closest object capable of providing satisfaction. Spock could take his subordinate right there. Force Sulu's smirking mouth to engulf his length until he peaked and shot off his load down his throat.

"Just fucking fuck her already." Sulu whispered into Spock's ear. The man's lips brushed against the curve leading to the sensitive tip. "Or I will."

Spock growled. The escalating anger within astounded him. "_Mine_," he shouted as he clutched his crew mate by the throat. He slung the man's body into a shelf by the door, destroying a valuable set of bio–engineered orchids. Spock was unnerved by the sheer look of terror on Sulu's face.

He was on edge.

He was dangerous.

Aroused and out of his Vulcan mind, Spock freed his engorged _lok_, using the first drops of moisture to lubricate the tip. His movements became rough and frenzied. He alternated between long and short strokes as he imagined that his hand was her walls as he clenched the smooth skin. He panted. He jerked and tugged and finally felt the building sensation that signaled he would soon shoot his load. His groans were followed by the murmur of her name.

A funnel of wind began and as the Talosian singing plant emitted a beautiful wailing chime. The Commander threw his head back and roared in ecstasy.

Sulu looked on, appalled, as Spock's semen landed on Vulcan mint, tomato vines, and his precious uttaberries. The stream continued. It was like a shower head on the highest setting. It doused everything within a hundred yards. A plant reminiscent of a Venus flytrap hungrily devoured the liquid that fell on its leaves.

"Shhhhhh... does it always do--_that_?" Sulu wiped a small amount of Spock's seed from his face and licked his fingers clean as he fought to comprehend the hows and whys of what had taken place in his once pristine gardens.

Repulsed by his own behavior, Spock returned his private parts reserved for Nyota to his pants. "Lieutenant, I would appreciate your discretion in regards to this situation. I will replace any items or equipment deemed irreparable."

Sulu dabbed at another drop of Vulcan love juice, sniffing it this time like a fine wine before retrieving it with his tongue. "Call us even."

Logic be damned. It was time for Spock Prime to be erased from the equation.

*

_kre'nath – bastard _

_Ponfo mirann – Vulcan expletive _


	8. Darling Nyota

_Warnings repeat: explicit sex, language, hilarity. OOC alert: Everybody's crazy!_

**Last chapter. Sigh.**

**All good sex romps must come to an end. **

*

**Chapter 8. Darling Nyota**

*

"What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?"

The two Vulcans - the two Vulcans with the exact same DNA pattern - glared at each other across the empty bridge. Spock Prime was sitting in the command chair; Spock had just stepped out of the lift.

"She asked me to meet her here," said Spock Prime.

"She asked _me_ to meet her here," said Spock.

"Fascinating," said Spock Prime. "There seems to be an echo in this chamber."

"Since we're in drydock, I ordered the entire crew off the ship, except for me and Nyota," reported Spock. "As you are not part of the crew, I can't order you, but regulations state - "

"To the devil with regulations. What I want to know is, how did you get rid of Jim?"

Spock smiled a wicked smile.

"I told him the Hanson twins were waiting for him at the Fairmont."

"Our Jims seem to run true to form in both timelines," said Spock Prime, and for a moment there was agreement.

"Meanwhile, what are you doing here?" snapped Spock. "I have chosen Nyota for my mate. It's your influence that has prevented me from consummating our union. You have no business here."

Prime shrugged. "She asked, I came. If you can't take your mind off my advice, that's not my problem. You should learn to put it aside and focus on what feels right."

Then the lift door swished open again and darling Nyota waltzed in.

"Hello, boys," she said sweetly. "Thanks for showing up. I think it's time you two got over yourselves and we can all go back to being friends again."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," said Spock.

"What did you have in mind?" purred Prime, rising from the chair and offering it to the lady. Spock shot him a look; he'd forgotten his manners and the old man had shown him up.

"Well," said the lieutenant, sitting down and crossing her legs, "You miss making love to the other Nyota, correct?"

Prime nodded.

"And you," she said to Spock, "You just don't know how to get started with me, do you?"

"Of course I do," retorted Spock, shifting his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. "I respect you too much to - "

"So let's do it, together. All three of us. Then you guys get what you want, I get what I want, you get to ride off into the New Vulcan sunset," she pointed at Prime, "and you get to find out whether you can handle me in your bed every night and twice on Sundays."

Prime grinned. Spock gulped.

"I'll take that as agreement," murmured Nyota. "Now, does anyone have a preference? Position? Do you want to take turns or do me both at once?"

"Nyota!" Spock blushed a deep green. Prime laughed.

"Not as innocent as you thought, is she, Spock?" he said. "The demure, quiet ones never are."

"I'm sure I don't know - "

"Oh, come on, Spock," said Nyota pityingly. "Who was my roommate back at the Academy? Gaila. An Orion woman. Believe me, she had a man almost every night, going at it in our room, and almost every night I was under my sheets, taking notes, drawing diagrams...Sometimes one of her hunks would come by and she'd be gone, and he'd let me practice on him."

"Nyota..." This time Spock's whisper was almost reverent.

"I'm a geek girl, Spock. No one suspects us of being sexually active, let alone creative. When a guy had sex with me, he thought _he_ was teaching _me_ something...usually it was how _not_ to turn a girl on..." She rolled her eyes in a decent imitation of Gaila. "At least I got a few ideas, and a lot of experience."

She leaned back in the command chair and swung her legs over one side; her skirt rode up to reveal red lace panties, no tights.

"Come and kiss me, boys. Let the games begin."

Spock moved to stand over her head, looking upside down at her laughing mouth, and Prime took up a position near her feet. Unzipping her boots, he pulled them slowly off, one at a time, and Spock leaned down and captured her mouth with his, his tongue diving deeper than ever. She sighed and giggled into his kiss and he glanced up to see Prime stroking her feet and kissing her ankles.

"Maybe you two can meet in the middle," Nyota purred. "Or a little lower. Did I mention that I have to come at least twice before either of you gets inside?"

The two Spocks looked at each other, and as one they moved to strip off their clothes.

"Lights, twenty per cent," said Spock, and Prime countered, "Twenty-five per cent." When Spock gave him an eyebrow he shrugged.

"My eyesight isn't so good any more."

The two naked Vulcans prowled up to the chair, cocks bobbing and swaying. Before Nyota knew it Spock had seized her shoulders, Prime her legs, and they tipped her over so her legs hung over the back of the chair and her head hung down where her feet should have been. She shrieked and laughed as they manhandled her clothes off her body.

Spock looked down at her face, once again upside down, poised just beneath his swelling erection. He leaned down and took her soft swaying breasts in his hands and said, "Ready?"

"Oh, yes," she whispered.

"I wasn't talking to you," he whispered back and glanced up at Prime, who nodded. Once again, they moved in tandem; Spock bent at the waist, fondling and stroking her breasts, his hard length bumping against the back of her head, and Prime pulled her legs open, resting one on each of his shoulders, and planted his extremely experienced mouth in her sex. She shrieked again, this time in pleasure.

Spock didn't mind that his elder self would probably get Nyota off first. He'd be warming her sex up for the main event, when Spock took her for his own. Meanwhile, his tongue lapped at her nipples as she squirmed in Prime's grasp; she slid down in the seat until her head tipped all the way back and his cock brushed against her lips. He was nuzzling her belly, enjoying the scent of the juices Prime was stimulating in her, when he felt her tongue take a swipe at his tip.

He couldn't straighten up; he'd need to push on something, and the chair was rocking - there were balance issues there; he couldn't back away either. Her hands were gripping the arms of the chair as she tried not to fall, so she couldn't get a grip on him. Every time Prime thrust his mouth into her, her body would gently rock, and her mouth would try to catch hold of the tantalizingly firm, green prize dangling so close. And every time she got in a lick or two Spock would jerk and moan, making it bob even more. It was a perpetual motion.

Prime reluctantly pulled his mouth away from her hot mound and said, "I must say, the command chair is still not my first choice for fucking on the bridge."

"I want the chair," gasped Nyota. Spock helped her sit up; he could tell her head was reeling from hanging so long under such conditions. "You guys figure it out. I'm not leaving the damn chair."

The men looked at each other.

"We must work together," said Prime, and Spock nodded agreement. They reached over her, to touch each other's contact points.

"I hate when they do that," muttered Nyota. She amused herself by sitting cross-legged and playing with her nipples as the Spocks schemed via mind meld. She had gotten impatient and was about to start stimulating herself elsewhere when the two men parted, came around in front of the command chair, and smiled down at her.

She was in trouble now.

"Out of the chair," said Spock. She just stared at him; he sighed and each man took an arm and hauled her up.

"Insubordination," said Prime. "What is the punishment for that , these days?"

"I'll show you," said Spock and patted his naked lap. "Put her right here."

Between them they made Nyota bend over and lie across Spock's lap; Prime sat on the step and held her shoulders while Spock cracked his knuckles, rubbed his hands together, and began to spank his beloved. Nyota squirmed and yelled, to no avail, and to torment her further, Prime pulled lazily at his erection, which pointed up directly at her face but out of reach.

"Bastards," she hissed between cries. "Perverted bastards."

"You implied earlier that your sexual education was conducted by observing an Orion woman," said Prime. "Surely spanking was included in the curriculum."

"It was," said Spock calmly as he whacked away. "I have first hand knowledge of it."

"WHAT!" Nyota was screaming, not from pain but indignation. "Gaila spanked you? Why?"

"It was the time of mating," intoned her sweetheart. "Gaila helped me survive it. You don't understand, yet, but you will."

His smacking of her ass had become almost perfunctory; she was reduced to merely grunting each time as she said, "Did you like it?"

"You did not ask permission to speak freely to your commanding officer," said Prime. "Another breach of conduct."

"You may impose discipline for it," Spock said to him graciously, leaving off his task.

"My climaxes," whined Nyota from his lap. "What about my climaxes?"

"A deal is a deal," said Prime. "We will honor it. But first, we must get your discipline out of the way." He seemed to be thinking, considering, and Nyota had a sudden idea. She put on a frightened face.

"Whatever you do," she whispered, lips trembling, "don't put anything in my ass. Please."

The Spocks exchanged glances and Prime raised both eyebrows.

"Please, don't." Nyota put a note of panic in her voice. "Gaila used to love that, I saw them do it to her, but it looked so gross. Please, I'll do anything, just not that."

"First aid kit?" asked Prime, and Spock told him, "In the head."

As Prime went to get the kit, Spock helped Nyota up and placed her facing the command chair, her hands on either armrest, leaning over at the waist. She struggled and cursed but he held her still until Prime rejoined them, then Spock sat on the floor, back against the chair, his mouth within reach of her sex, holding her wrists in place.

"You may proceed when ready," he said to his elder. Nyota felt Prime take hold of her buttocks, stroking gently as if to relieve the pain of her spanking. She sighed.

"You can fuck me this way if you want," she murmured. "As long as I get to come too. Just don't - ah!"

She was reacting to the sensation of warm, slick lubricant, dripping between her cheeks as Prime applied it liberally to her crack. She whimpered and writhed and managed to bring tears to her eyes, but inwardly she was gloating. She had seen Gaila do this, but she'd never done it herself, and she'd always wanted to try it.

For purposes of deception, however, she almost sobbed, "Please, sir, not there, don't fuck me there, I'll do anything..."

Prime's heat covered her body as he leaned over to kiss and nip at her neck. "I'm not going to put my lok in you there," he replied. "I might want to use it somewhere else, later. No, we'll start with something considerably smaller."

With that his thumbs, which had been making hard circles over her cheeks, sank between them and spread them apart, and he pushed one into her anus, firmly, and pulled it out again. She went rigid and gasped, "No...no, please..."

The next digit to go in was longer, a finger, and he held her buttocks open with one hand while pumping his fingers in her with the other. Two fingers. Deeper. Now three, and Prime said, "You may commence, Spock."

Spock held her open and thrust his tongue against her clit, and was gratified to feel her come almost instantly, twice, three times; it took two pairs of male Vulcan hands to keep her in place. She screamed and bucked and gripped the armrests so hard the padding began to peel off.

When she could get enough air to speak, Nyota gasped, "Okay, that's one..."

"On the contrary," interrupted Spock as he got up off the floor. "I detected at least three distinct orgasms from my position, possibly more."

"It's our turn now," added Prime. He was cleaning his fingers with antiseptic from the first aid kit, as though this was a routine day for him.

"Oh, all right," she said, but she was grinning. Nyota was nothing if not a good sport.

Spock was nearly trembling with lust. This was the moment he'd been waiting for. He forgot all about romance, foreplay, or any other protocol, and grabbed his Nyota around her waist. She yelped and he fell back to sit in the command chair with her straddling his lap. She looked down at his erection and began to tremble as well. She'd seen a lot of penises while living with Gaila, but never had she seen one so big, so hard, and so green.

"Oh, gods, Spock," she whispered. "Do you think it'll fit?"

"It'll have to," he replied desperately. "Because if I don't get it inside you right now, I'll explode and make a mess of the command chair and have to explain to Jim why it smells like Vulcan body fluid..."

"You're babbling, Spock," said Prime from behind Nyota. "Don't worry, my dear, we'll take care of the logistics."

He lifted Nyota by the waist and turned her so that she was facing him, and Spock helped guide her down onto his huge green pole.

"Just hold on a little longer, my boy," urged Prime. With the agility of a far younger man, he climbed up onto the armrests of the command chair, one knee on each, and put his hands on Spock's shoulders. Nyota was confronted with a second sizeable green hard-on and she licked her lips hungrily.

"Now," said Prime. "I cannot thrust without losing my balance, so I am at your mercy, Nyota. Do what you will."

Spock was already following this advice; his hot hands were on Nyota's breasts, mauling her flesh, tweaking her nipples fiercely as he bounced her up and down on his cock. Nyota held onto the armrests for dear life, her hands an inch from Prime's knees, and as she bounced she managed to capture his solid flesh and hold it in her mouth. She hoped Prime wouldn't need a lot of pressure - if she let go of the chair she knew she'd fall. She put extra effort into sucking and tonguing what she could reach; eventually she managed almost the whole thing, as Prime groaned above her and Spock growled behind her.

Somehow all three reached a kind of zone where the rhythm and pressure and friction coalesced into the promise of bliss. Nyota took one of Spock's hands and shoved it down between her legs, and he obediently used it on her clitoris. He watched Prime's organ slipping in and out of Nyota's mouth and felt a strange sense of the rightness of it all. He bent his head and sank his teeth into Nyota's shoulder and she gasped and moaned. The sound set them all off.

Nyota came first; the jerking of her hips finished off Spock and he roared against her neck; Prime was clutching Spock's shoulders as he spilled his essence down Nyota's throat, which triggered yet another orgasm in her. There was much grasping and groaning and wetness, and none of them wanted to let go...

Then the world collapsed. Or to be precise, the chair broke, right down the middle, under the weight of three humanoids and the force of their fucking. Spock lay stunned between the two jagged pieces, having narrowly missed injury; Nyota lay face up on top of him, and Prime was sprawled over both. All three observed a moment of silent gratitude to the gods of coitus for sparing their lives.

Then Nyota giggled.

"I feel like we need some mayo and a pickle here," she snorted. "It's a Nyota sandwich..."

The Spocks looked at her, then at each other, and all three of them burst out laughing. Even the Vulcans.

*

**THE END**


End file.
